Damien
Irene tracks me as I fold and pack the few belongings I brought with me into my duffel bag. The last twenty or so hours have been surreal. She’s the most complex woman I’ve ever met. Her insecurities and strengths are contradictory but also complementary at the same time. She fascinates me. I’m not happy I have to leave. “I pushed forward my meetings.” In my head, I can still hear the Crestwater team’s grumblings and the Farrington team’s groans, but everyone wants the deal to close, so they accommodated my request.
I zip up my bag and drop it to the floor. “If all goes well, I could come back Wednesday morning and spend the rest of the week with you. Would you like that?”
Please say yes.
After only three days alone with Irene on the island, I’m more relaxed and rejuvenated than I have been in years. To have five more days with her would be . . . She takes off my T-shirt that she’s been wearing since we retreated to my room after lunch, interrupting my thoughts.
Sitting on the bed naked, she dangles the material from her fingers. “You forgot to pack this.”
Fuck, I love this woman. Irene raises up onto her knees, dropping the T-shirt and reaching out to wrap her arms around my neck. I can’t get enough of her kisses. The bursts of endorphins are addictive. Placing my hands firmly on her ass, I lift, urging her to wrap those gorgeous long legs around my waist. My flight leaves in less than an hour, and there’s not enough time.
Irene pulls me in close and whispers, “Fuck me one last time before you go.”
There is no way I can deny her. I reach between us to unbutton my jeans. The back of my hand glides over her soaked pussy when she raises a little to deepen our kiss. Damn, she is hot.
“Hurry, I want you in me.” Irene pulls back a little, skimming her hand down my chest and over my stomach to pull up my T-shirt. She grabs my dick through the slit in my briefs. I need to be inside her, so I pull the last condom left out of my back pocket. Frantically, I tug my jeans down and slip the plastic sheath over me before I grab her hips and settle her on my cock.
Her lips round. A seductive oh escapes her as my cock fills her tight, wet pussy.
I dig my fingers into the soft, round cheeks she loves for me to slap. But right now, there is no time for stalling her pleasure. I lift her up and then pull her back down hard, over and over. I love watching Irene’s expressive face. When she looks at me, her pussy clamped around my dick, I connect with her in a way I never have with another woman.
“Harder. No. Slower.” Irene shakes her head. “No. I mean faster.” She’s the only one who can order me around without my ego bristling. I give her what she wants, driving my cock into her harder and faster until she squeezes her eyes shut. She’s close. I’m close. When her pussy starts to spasm, I pull her deeper and come. My dick, snug inside her, twitches. I cover her mouth with my own to capture her screams as she finds her release.
I glance at the door. Michael is probably on the other side, waiting for me and debating whether to knock. I’d love to say screw work and bend Irene over the bed to fuck her all over again.
She wiggles, drawing my attention back to her. “We’ve run out of time. You gotta go.”
I pull out and lower her until her feet hit the ground. Removing the condom, I throw it into the trash can. It’s a reminder to take care of that jerk Clayton as soon as I get back to town. I pull up my jeans, and I’m eye level with her wet pussy. Damn, why do I have to leave?
“Sir.” Michael’s deep voice filters through the door.
Irene giggles and then shouts, “He’s coming.”
I can’t help but laugh. She’s funny as hell. I love how she makes me feel free to laugh at random shit. Although I haven’t even left the room, I miss her already.
Grabbing my T-shirt from the bed, I slip it over her head. She stuffs her arms through the armholes before grabbing me by the shoulders and turning me towards the door. A shiver of dread runs down my spine. She’s rushing me out the door. I swing around, but she shoves my duffel into my chest so hard I stumble back through the door Michael now holds open.
I quickly regain my balance. What the fuck? Irene leans forward and gives me the most platonic kiss I’ve ever had. “Email me.” And then she closes the damn door in my face.
Rage flows through my veins. What just happened?
Michael takes my bag and walks towards the front door. “We’re late. Let’s go.”
I follow him out to the idling car and hop in.
Irene never answered my question about my return. I should call her before I lose service. Except as I stare at her contact info, I remember she never turned on the phone I gave her this morning. Maybe she’s not going to. She said to email, not call her. But why?
The knot in my stomach is never a good sign. Realizing Michael said something, I glance up to the rearview mirror. “What?”
“When are we coming back?”
I shake my head. He asked when, not if. But either way, I don’t have an answer for him. I stare out the side window. “I’m not sure.”